


the follies of youth

by Le_Tournesol



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Spoilers for episode 9, matcha blossom, mentions of past matcha blossom, takes place directly after episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Tournesol/pseuds/Le_Tournesol
Summary: “You shouldn’t be alone,” Joe pointed out.“I’m not alone. I have Carla,” Cherry sniffed haughtily, but the effect was ruined by the red creases the wooden bar had left on his face.Joe shook his head, “Baka megane. I doubt you can even make it home.”“I made it here,” Cherry reminded him.Yeah, you did, Joe thought.Why?
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 23
Kudos: 575





	the follies of youth

**Author's Note:**

> listen cherry checks himself out AMA and goes straight to joe episode 9 gave me all the matcha blossom feels 🍵🌸
> 
> Also I am terrible at titles

Joe’s foot is asleep. 

He’s not sure how to extricate it without waking his companion, whose head is pillowed on his thigh. 

Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to rouse Cherry. He likes his sleepy, frustrated face, and it would give him an opportunity to tease him. 

And Cherry is usually pretty quick to drop back off to sleep anyway.

This is different though.

The concussion is giving him a headache, and his other injuries haven’t even started to heal.

The beef with Adam was only yesterday, and the man should frankly still be in the hospital. 

Cherry had fussed the previous night when Joe insisted he stay in Joe’s upstairs apartment with him. 

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Joe had pointed out. 

“I’m not alone. I have Carla,” Cherry sniffed haughtily, but the effect was ruined by the red creases the wooden bar had left on his face. 

Joe shook his head, “ _Baka megane._ I doubt you can even make it home.” 

“I made it here,” Cherry reminded him. 

_Yeah, you did_ , Joe thought. _Why?_

Joe, careful of the many injuries, scooped the slighter man into his arms.

Predictably, Cherry squawked. “Hey! Put me down, you brainless gorilla!”

“This building doesn’t have an elevator,” Joe said. “Stop fidgeting. You’re going to tear your stitches.”

Cherry huffed, but complied, which was enough to assure Joe that he was exhausted.

Joe put Cherry in the guest room. 

And they both slept terribly.

Cherry couldn’t get comfortable with his injuries and obstinately refused to take anything for the pain. 

Joe threatened to crush the pills up and put them in his drink. 

It led to a shouting match. 

Eventually they both gave up on getting any rest and moved to the living room couch just before the sun began to peek over the mountains.

Joe turned on the TV. Cherry bitched about his taste in television. Normally Joe would shove him for it, but there was nowhere to put his hands that wasn’t already hurt.

The sky brightened, and somehow Joe ended up with a lapful of Kaoru. 

And now his foot is wedged under Cherry’s back, and it’s long gone numb. 

It’s going to hurt like a bitch when he gets it free. 

Joe tries to decide if he should risk it and move Cherry back into the spare bedroom where he’ll be more comfortable or just let him sleep. 

But Cherry is so still, so Joe decides it will be fine. He probably won’t suddenly roll onto his broken arm or kick something with his broken ankle. 

And it’s not like there’s anyway to sleep comfortably with broken ribs. 

Joe knows that much firsthand. 

Unsurprisingly, Cherry wakes up an hour or two later both grouchy and snappish. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Joe dishes it right back out, “You’re awfully full of yourself for someone who just drooled all over my leg.”

Cherry flushes, a soft Sakura pink that matches his hair, which is uncharacteristically matted and sticking to his face. He pulls a few strands away from his mouth and grimaces. 

“Want me to wash it?” Joe offers before he can stop himself. Too late to take it back now, though. 

“What?”

Joe reaches out to catch a lock of pink hair and rubs the strands between his fingers, “Your hair. Do you want me to wash it?”

Cherry scrunches up his nose, “Are you trying to give me a sponge bath, _hentai?”_

“No,” Joe leans into his space and leers, “Unless you’re asking?”

Cherry sneers, but Joe doesn’t miss the way his ears redden. 

This dance is so instinctive that each move comes naturally, drawing closer, pushing away, only to meet again. 

“Like I’d want you oafish hands on me,” Cherry scoffs.

Joe is so far in his space now their noses are nearly touching. When he speaks, Cherry feels the whisper of his breath on his lips, “Funny. I can think of plenty of times you didn’t mind having my hands on you.”

Cherry pushes him away with his good arm and studiously looks away from him before mumbling, “The follies of youth.”

Joe laughs. 

Cherry pinches his knee, which makes him yelp, and then because he must be some kind of idiot or masochist he says, “Seriously, though. I’ll wash your hair. I’m sure it’s bugging you. I can even braid it for you.”

Cherry arches an elegant eyebrow, “Oh? Have you learned a thing or two from your many conquests?”

Joe doesn’t rise to the bait, “Luckily for you.”

Cherry hasn’t actually said no, so Joe gently lifts him into his arms and makes for the kitchen. 

“Do you have to show off?”

“You can’t walk,” Joe reminds him pointedly, but then he does decide to show off out of spite. He shifts Cherry’s weight onto one arm and uses the other to grab a bar chair, which he drags in front of the sink before depositing his burden onto it. 

Cherry tries to cross his arms, but the cast and sling get in the way. 

Joe folds up a hand towel and places it on the rim of the sink. 

“Lean back,” Joe says, and then he grabs the hose and turns on the spray.

Cherry sputters when the water hits his face. 

“I told you to lean back,” Joe says.

“Watch the bandages,” Cherry snarls. 

“I am, I am,” Joe replies easily. “We should probably change them anyway.”

Joe deftly unfastens the wrappings with one hand and then unwinds them, which reveals all the impressive bruising on Cherry’s forehead and the places where Adam’s deck split his skin. 

“I sort of thought they’d try to shave your head,” Joe admits as he takes in the severity of the wounds. 

“They tried,” Cherry huffs. “Why do you think I left?”

“Vain,” Joe says, but he’s gentle as he removes the last plaster, which reveals four precise black stitches.

_Ouch._

He doesn’t comment, though. He just wets the roots of Cherry’s hair and carefully cleans away the remaining blood.

When he leaves him to grab a bottle of shampoo and a few other supplies, he thinks about the fact that it will be months before Cherry’s back on his feet, and how much Cherry will hate it in the meantime. He’ll have to rely on others, and he won’t be able to hide his vulnerabilities. 

It’s one of Cherry’s nightmares, and he can’t quite hide the tension that hums beneath his aloof facade. 

Joe likes seeing Cherry frazzled, human, but he doesn’t enjoy seeing him genuinely distressed. 

Sitting the bottle on the countertop, Joe works the shampoo into a lather between his hands and avoids any open wounds as he massages it into Cherry’s hair. 

When he cups his hand against Cherry’s hairline to shield him from the water as he rinses the shampoo, he can’t help but notice that his face fits into his palm. Cherry’s sharp features, like the slope of his nose or the planes of cheekbones, suddenly look delicate.

Cherry, who prides himself on his cool and poise, whose strong, lithe muscles and refined thinking push him to greater heights, seems small and breakable. 

Joe isn’t stupid enough to say that much aloud, though. Joe prefers to keep his testicles, thank you very much. 

Because what Cherry lacks in bulk and stature, he makes up for in fire, and Joe knows that he’s still a formidable opponent, even now.

An injured tiger is still a tiger after all. 

And maybe all the more reckless for it. 

Joe smoothes a hand through Cherry’s hair to help rinse away the conditioner and then turns off the tap. Cherry can’t quite manage to sit up gracefully, but he still grumbles when Joe helps. 

Joe uses his fingers to unknot any tangles and then plugs the blow dryer into the nearest outlet. It whirs to life, and neither speaks over the din as Joe methodically dries his hair.

It’s almost peaceful without the usual barbs and jibes, not that Joe would ever want to give them up. He likes that Cherry bites back, likes that he knows who Cherry is beneath the prim mask he wears for the public and the cool one he wears for “S”. 

When he’s finished, he sits the blow dryer aside and runs a comb through Cherry’s long hair. He even starts from the bottom because he _has_ learned a thing or two from the various women in his life. He pays attention. It only increases his appeal and helps seal the deal. 

“I don’t have any of those fancy oils you use,” Joe says as he separates Cherry’s hair into three sections.

“I’ll survive,” Cherry mocks. 

Joe makes a neat, simple braid that hangs to the small of Cherry’s back, and then ties the elastic around it to secure it in place. 

Instinctively, he lifts the loose end to his nose and inhales, marvels at the fact that Cherry’s hair still smells like his namesake even when he’s used his own shampoo, and then he catches their reflection in the backsplash. 

Cherry’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, and there’s a small line between his brows.

“I can hear you thinking,” Joe says. The hair tickles his lips. 

“It’s down to Snake, Shadow, Snow, and Miya,” Cherry says as he examines his face. He brings one slender finger to the dark stitches and winces when he touches them. “The odds aren’t good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Snow and Miya are _children_ ,” Cherry answers. “They don’t need to be anywhere near Adam.”

“We can’t stop them,” Joe frowns. 

“Then we need to stop _him_ ,” Cherry counters. “I haven’t seen Reki in weeks.” 

The comment hangs in the air.

Reki’s physical injuries healed, but something deeper within him had clearly suffered. 

Cherry bites his lip. 

Joe rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezes, and then fetches the first aid kit. 

Once he’s disinfected the cuts, applied ointment, and bandaged everything back up, he produces a glass of water and two pain pills. 

“Take them,” he insists. 

“I’m fine,” Cherry hisses. He goes as far as to turn up his nose. 

“You’re in pain.” Joe reaches out and smoothes the line between his brow with a single finger. “I can tell. Right here. And around your eyes and mouth.”

“Mind your own business.”

He looks into Cherry’s golden eyes and decides to debase himself, “ _Kaoru_. Please.” 

Cherry tenses, but there’s no waspish retort in his tongue. No, thankfully he relents, sighing and holding out his hand, “Fine.”

His open palm is as scratched up as the rest of him. 

Cherry swallows the medicine and then downs the contents of the glass, “Happy?”

“With you around?” Joe asks as he carries Cherry back toward the couch. “Never.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> yeah I blame episode 9 for this coming out of nowhere and demanding to be written I just love their dynamic and they are in love, Your Honor.
> 
> Hope it doesn’t feel too OOC and hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are writer fuel and always appreciated 💖💚


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